Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Wax and Retribution
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"Good. I'll give you one chance. But there's a condition. Stop crying and show me a smile. You can manage that much, right?"
Any ordinary slave couldn't do it. After a beating and a preview of hot wax torture, how could they smile?
But an elf was different. Most of her gestures and expressions had been an act, so she could smile anytime she wanted.
So please, just smile. I didn't want to go this far either.
"Hngh, hwaaaang...!"
But the elf just wailed all the louder, as if on purpose.
She wasn't even pretending to hold back her sobs. No matter how I looked at it, this was practically begging for the wax. Damn it.
"You little pest. This is on you."
I had no choice but to tilt the candlestick. The melted wax clung to the candle's tip before dropping onto the elf's stomach with a plop.
"Hiyak—!"
The smell of burning flesh. Amid faint wisps of smoke, the elf screamed at the top of her lungs.
Thanks to that, I—who'd been breaking out in cold sweats—glanced up and down the hallway. I was terrified the servants might hear and wake up.
'...None?'
Fortunately, no presences stirred. Clutching my pounding chest, I recited a warning to the elf.
"Don't scream. If you tire my ears one more time, I won't hold back."
"Y-Yes... sir...."
Her voice was thick with moisture. It was so pitiful, I couldn't tell if it was from tears or smoke.
I took a deep breath and dropped another glob of wax.
"—!"
Each time, the elf writhed and gritted her teeth. Watching it was just as painful for me.
No matter how much it was an act, no matter how fake, this was still tormenting another person. It was one-sided abuse when she hadn't even done anything wrong.
I wasn't the type to get pleasure from hurting women. So this act—this whole string of violence—was relentlessly assaulting the corners of my conscience.
"Tch."
This was my limit. Any more, and I'd lose an important part of my humanity.
"I'm tired. That's enough for tonight."
I tossed the candlestick carelessly to the floor. The impact snuffed out the flame, blanketing the area in darkness.
Using the shadows, I dropped the arrogant facade I'd been wearing. Guilt and confusion flooded in where the mask had fallen away.
I took a long breath in and out, barely regaining my composure, then moved my lips briefly.
"Clean this up yourself, you wench."
I straightened my clothes and turned to walk down the hall. Feeling eyes on my back, I kept my steps as calm and dignified as possible.
The moment I rounded the corner, I bolted like a man who'd seen a ghost.
Mouth agape in a silent scream, I dashed to my room and slammed the door shut. I bolted it, leaned back against it, and collapsed to the floor.
'I escaped...!'
But it was too soon to relax. I had to check the elf's reaction.
I tapped the ring on my left index finger, activating Surveillance Object. A blue glow emanated from the ring, forming a rectangular window that illuminated the elf's room.
After a moment, the elf entered and perched on the bed. Her face was unreadable as she sat still, then snapped her fingers.
A damp breeze enveloped her body, cleanly peeling away the stuck wax. The burned skin healed in seconds, returning to its smooth perfection.
Then, a yawn. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, the elf crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.
— Theobald Deharm, was it?
Not her usual whiny tone, but something profoundly low and authoritative. I swallowed hard, waiting for her next words.
— Hmm.
She tapped her lips with a finger, lost in thought. Staring blankly at the ceiling as if replaying the night's events, she suddenly broke into a bright smile.
— Not bad tonight~ He definitely has talent.
S-Survived.
"Haaa...."
Relief at my guaranteed survival escaped as a massive sigh.
I deactivated Surveillance Object and wiped my face with my hand.
'I made it through tonight, but...'
Tomorrow, and the day after? Who knew.
But I—the head of the prestigious Viscount Deharm family, trusted vice-viscount to the count—couldn't keep getting played by that devious elf.
I needed a plan.
A plan to evict the pointy-eared demon from my mansion...!
'I'll make you regret ever stepping into my home, elf!'
I ground my teeth and tried to stand, but gave up.
My legs had turned to jelly; I couldn't even stand properly.
"Hn, hngh."
I'd just sit here until my mind settled...
*
A pleasant morning sun bathed the courtyard.
Head butler Harvid strolled through it earlier than any servant.
His impeccably tailored tailcoat, slicked-back hair, neatly trimmed mustache, and polished shoes were his pride and trademarks.
Of course, shining his shoes and grooming every morning wasn't easy, but Harvid bore it gladly.
'For the family's honor, this is nothing.'
For Harvid—who'd risen from errand boy in the Viscount Deharm household to head butler—the family's honor was his own.
The head butler's attire and bearing represented the family. He couldn't skip grooming just because it was a hassle.
The same went for his daily morning visit to the previous family head's statue in the courtyard.
Halting before it, Harvid clasped his hands and bowed lightly.
"Rest in peace up there. From your lofty heaven, please watch over the household and my young master today."
As he finished the prayer and lifted his head, he froze. Something was off around the statue.
'The grass at the statue's base is flattened.'
Why would the usually upright grass lie flat overnight? No pets in the mansion, so not a dog.
'Who got this close to the previous family head's statue?'
The current family head? No. Theobald always prayed from two paces back.
The servants? Most ignored the statue. Even if interested, no reason to approach.
Slaves? They worked the outer farms or workshops; they rarely entered the courtyard unless special circumstances. Ruled out.
Then who? Harvid glared at the flattened grass, then knelt to inspect it. Maybe traces of the culprit.
'No footprints, nothing else... Hm?'
A sharp scent tickled his nose. Definitely a lingering smell. Curiosity piqued, Harvid leaned closer—and realized what it was.
'...Urine?'
The faint, acrid tang was unmistakably piss.
'Pissed on it? On the previous family head's statue?'
Unforgivable! His teeth ground, cheeks trembled. Clenching his fists in rage, Harvid shot to his feet.
'Who?! Gurram? Karasin? Maltao?'
Three sloppy servants came to mind, but no proof.
He wanted to round everyone up and yell, but protocol demanded reporting to family head Theobald first.
'Just wait. Whoever it is, they won't get away with tarnishing the family honor.'
He'd make them pay dearly. Seething, Harvid stormed out of the courtyard, face flushed red.
*
Sunlight poured through the arched windows into the study.
Black velvet carpet embroidered with the family crest—red-crested bird—this was the family head's exclusive sanctum.
Even I, his son, needed permission to enter this sacred space. There, I composed myself and elegantly penned a letter.
『To Slave Merchant Jobillar,
This is Theobald Deharm, who bought an elf slave from you ten days ago.
First, my apologies for my error.
I was deceived by the elf's appearance and impulsively paid, claiming ownership.
With the slave contract and branding complete, I won't deny the deal.
However, Jobillar,
This is blatant fraud. Even if you told me her age, you didn't warn me of the dangers of an elf over 250 years old, did you?
It's deception—nay, an insult to the entire slave trade, built on trust.
As an aside, realizing this made me worry you'd lost your parents young.
Lacking proper upbringing, a single mistake is forgivable in my generosity.
But not twice. Come to Viscount Deharm's estate in Pelgaroin County at once and take back the elf.
Refuse or ignore me, and I stake the Deharm name on your ruin.
We'll discuss details face-to-face. I'll end here.
Theobald Deharm, 7th Family Head of Viscount Deharm, Vice-Viscount assisting the Count of Pelgaroin County, sends greetings.』
Finishing the letter, I set down the quill and waited for the ink to dry.
'A masterpiece.'
Appropriate threats to inferiors are noble basics. He'd grasp the gravity and come crawling with apologies.
If he takes the elf back afterward, perfect. I'd uproot the time bomb from the family.
Good for the elf too—better a genuine rotten noble than my forced sale. Win-win, or killing-two-birds-with-one-stone.
Grinning, I folded the parchment, slipped it into an envelope, poured sealing wax, and stamped the family crest.
With the Deharm seal? A pity I won't see the merchant's twisted face.